


Proscenium

by Piinutbutter



Series: Terrestrial Apostasy [2]
Category: Hylics (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Captivity, Dysfunctional Relationships, Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-16
Updated: 2020-07-16
Packaged: 2021-03-04 18:14:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,320
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25300696
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Piinutbutter/pseuds/Piinutbutter
Summary: The moon can't stay in one phase forever.
Series: Terrestrial Apostasy [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1935853
Comments: 9
Kudos: 29





	Proscenium

**Author's Note:**

> Hylics 2 is officially out and I am officially back on my bullshit. I have...a lot of thoughts and theories about whether the Wayne we play as in 2 is actually the same as the Wayne from the first game, and I can touch on those in later fics. For now, I’m not over the fact that Gibby pulled a genuine fucking “wE CaN rUle ToGeTheR” on Wayne, so I had to get this out of my system.
> 
> Though not required reading, [The Whole of the Moon](https://archiveofourown.org/works/14859218) contains my headcanon for Wayne and Gibby’s backstory, which gives context to the way I write them here.

The king reborn was a magnificent sight to behold. Gone was the awkward, overbuilt prototype of his native body. His limbs were built with sinuous flesh in the colors of an afterlife sunset. His face - death mask though it was - fit the image of a tyrant better than his old one. (Too round! Too soft! He had always complained about that.)

The first glimpse Wayne had caught of Gibby's new body had filled him with hope. Hope that now, not only time, but his own eyes would provide Wayne with a way to separate himself from the man in front of him. It didn't matter what Gibby had once been to him. He was a monster who needed to be destroyed. He had been then and he would be now.

Yet when Gibby spoke, the mouth the words came from made no difference. Wayne still felt his grip on his weapon waver. His companions - how he loved them - held no hesitation in their own voices. They rebuffed Gibby’s dominion with words, then actions, then their gurgling screams which grew abruptly muffled, as if Gibby had molded their skin over their mouths.

Then they said nothing, and Wayne was on his knees in the middle of yet another throne room, some of his flesh scattered about the floor and under Gibby’s feet.

"Good,” Gibby said. “Kneel before your true king."

Wayne raised his head. It had been bowed - not out of submission, but because a third of it was missing, and it was difficult to balance. He narrowed his eyes at Gibby.

“You know what? Screw you.”

The tyrant’s mindless minions erupted into chittering laughter that made Wayne want to slough the rest of his head off himself.

Gibby sighed. He stepped closer to Wayne. One of Pongorma’s fingers crunched under his heel. The knight’s body hadn’t melted. Now that Wayne looked around him, none of his friends had disappeared into the safety of the afterlife like they should have. It was eerie, to see them so deathly still.

Something told him it was Gibby’s doing.

“They aren’t gone for good,” Gibby said. “But they can be.”

It was hard for Wayne to believe that anything was gone for good in this world. They’d destroyed Gibby as thoroughly as four heroes could. Yet here he was. His strange, long new fingers forcing themselves under Wayne’s chin and tilting his head back. Wayne fought the urge to yank himself away.

“You’ve caused me too much trouble to simply ignore, Wayne. Yet I can’t find it in me to kill you. Call it a character flaw.”

How sentimental. Wayne said nothing.

“I’ll offer you a fair deal. Two for two. I have no use for the farmer or the explorer. The knight would be a useful tool in my army, and you, well...we have matters to catch up on.”

Wayne shouldn’t listen. He should rebuff anything Gibby offered him. Gibby had always been terrible at negotiation. It was his way or no way, and his way had never ended with Wayne being happy.

Still.

“You’d let Dedusmuln and Somsnosa go?”

“Are those their names?” Gibby sneered. “How ugly. I’d keep them safe, yes.”

That was not the question Wayne had asked.

It was, however, enough for him to agree.

* * *

The Hylemxylem was a bustling place. Gibby’s followers filed through its cramped and winding halls day in and day out. (Well, the day never technically did move out. Gibby’s new palace was a marvel, but nothing could bring back the moon.) Wayne rarely had a moment to himself, and he could hardly hear himself think over their constant talk.

He had never felt so alone.

Even when he’d first come to Earth. He’d had a purpose then. He’d been a coward, running away and leaving Gibby to destroy himself and his subjects, but at the very least, Wayne had made the choice to strike out on his own. Then Somsnosa came along, and...

He didn’t want to think about Somsnosa. When one of Gibby’s guards asked if he wanted to see her, Wayne turned down the offer for the third day in a row.

It would have been unthinkable before all this. His little crew was his biggest comfort. His source of strength. Sure, they parted. They lived their own lives and conquered their own challenges in between visits and group adventures. But never had Wayne _not_ wanted to savor their company.

He did not enjoy the company of what Somsnosa and Dedusmuln had become. What Gibby had made them.

“Hey,” Wayne had croaked, the last time he’d agreed to visit them.

“Beseech the jellyfish: What intestinal madness have you to sacrifice?” Dedusmuln had replied. Their handsome body and shining armor had been warped into the gray strands of Gibby’s wrath.

“Yeah,” he sighed. “You too. Good to see you guys hangin’ in there.”

Somsnosa, insensate, stumbled blindly closer to Wayne. Wayne pulled away like she was an ambulant skull.

Wayne would rather be alone.

At least Gibby didn’t make him see Pongorma.

Wayne didn’t know how he could face the knight. Gibby fully recognized Pongorma’s skills, and was apparently quite familiar with his legacy. Now Pongorma was fighting the king’s battles under the same threat as Wayne. He was loyal to a fault. He would see no harm come to his warrior queen and his gallant scholar.

Pongorma was a knife in Gibby’s hand, and Wayne had put him there.

Shame wasn’t a strong enough word. Wayne had never been good with his words like Gibby, though.

Maybe that thought was what drove him to the library. Wayne hadn’t touched a book since leaving the moon. They simply weren’t a common thing on Earth. Dedusmuln spoke of ancient libraries - wondrous marvels of architecture that housed the knowledge of intellectuals and artisans from every field and craft. The room tucked into a corner of the new palace wasn’t anything like that. The books were all about politics or war.

Wayne was flipping through a collection of essays about effective debate when the door opened and closed behind him.

“You were never one for literature,” Gibby said.

Wayne closed the book and put it back in its reef-shaped cubbyhole. “This isn’t literature.”

“Well, excuse me for the lack of reading material in my newly-reconstituted home. Have I been boring you?”

Wayne crossed his arms. He refused to turn and look at Gibby. “Not really.”

“Is that so? You don’t mind not being allowed to go outside?”

Wayne shrugged. “Where would I go?”

To his house, where the only ones who weren’t gibbering messes were the larvae? To New Muldul, where he could see the once thriving town stomped out by the man who stood next to him?

Gibby placed a hand on his shoulder. “And here I thought you were so fond of Earth.”

Wayne jerked away from him. He finally turned to see Gibby’s smug, hollow smile.

“Is that what this is about?” Wayne snapped. “Could you just...not handle that I was somewhere I wanted to be? Somewhere with people I wanted to be with? Somewhere I was _happy?"_

Gibby jabbed a finger into Wayne’s chest hard enough to leave a dent in his clay. “Don’t flatter yourself. I was revived because I deserved to be so; I returned the world to its rightful place because it deserves to be mine.”

Wayne made a sound. Something between a sigh and a single, hysteric hitch of laughter. “You haven’t changed one bit.”

Gibby gripped the collar of Wayne’s jacket between two fingers, toying with it. “You were of no consequence, aside from being a thorn in my side, were I to let you run rampant. But, since you so helpfully decided to come to me...”

He tugged Wayne close by his collar, his unfamiliar face staring down at Wayne with a very familiar hatred.

“I thought I’d bring you home, where you belong.”


End file.
